Behind the Veil
by Clorinda
Summary: A murderer returns to the scene of the crime. Immediately after the OP. One shot.


**Behind the Veil**

**By** Clorinda

**Rated**: PG

**Category**: Drama

**Summary**: A murderer returns to the scene of the crime. Immediately after the OP. One-shot.

**Author's** **Note**: I'll inform anyone who cares to read that this is NOT a romance, with NO subtle hints at all. I mean, Sirius is so ready to spit on Bellatrix's name that it seems unlikely he might have loved her at one point of time. If you're a fan of the Polar-Opposites-Getting-Together-With-An-Uncanny-Lot-Of-Fluffiness style fic, or something similar, then go read DracoxGinny.

Okay, enough of this now.

* * *

"Come on, you can do better than that!" he scoffs, laughing. He is about to rebuke her again, when his words die in his throat.

She doesn't look like his cousin anymore.

But the Lestrange she is.

There is a wild look in her eyes, like a shark about to devour a shrimp, and bright light shoots out from the tip of her wand.

He stares at the spell as it comes straight at him, mesmerised by the glittering sparks.

He was still staring when he fell, still laughing.

Behind the veil.

* * *

She can't blink. Her eyelids are pulled open, and Spello-taped to her head. His back arches behind him, his knees buckling. His unkempt hair flies backwards, revealing his face. His eyes widen, and his lips are still carved into a grin.

He disappears through that ragged veil fluttering in the breeze, taking his own sweet time, feasting on the look in her eyes.

That is when she goes round the bend. She hears voices. Voices mingled in the wind. Crying out all kinds of things that are drowned in the sea of Potter's screams. She strains her ears to listen, wondering what she ought to feel.

"_Goodbye, Minevra, I'll miss you, lassie_..."

_"Watch out, Satan, here comes your lil' princess_!"

"_Alastor, you'll pay for this with your eye_!"

"_My Bella lies over the ocean, my Bella lies over the sea! Oh, bring back my Bella to me, to me! Oh, bring back my Bella to me_!"

She freezes. That is Sirius's voice. She heard him speak! Did ... _Can_ those voices belong to all those who fell through the veil? Or is it simply her imagination?

She can't tell if she cares or not. There are much more important matters at hand now. But she will be back here. She knows not when, and she knows not how, but she will return. Sirius is waiting for her here.

Behind the veil.

* * *

Everything is pitch dark. He cannot see even his own hands.

He gropes around his surroundings, hoping to find a wall, but no matter how far he inches, he cannot find anything rock solid. The ground beneath his feet seems flimsy, and all he can see is that torn veil flapping in the doorway.

He warily takes a step forward. So far so good.

Another step. He is still in one piece. And another step.

Then another.

Followed by a fifth.

It seems like an eternity, before he reaches the veil.

He grabs a fistful of the thin material, and attempts to push it aside. It doesn't budge.

The ends of the curtain are pushed back and forth by the wind, but it seems he has no more strength left. Not even the strength to drag aside something lighter than air.

He tries over and over again, but he fails dismally. His hands pass through the gaps beside the veil, but the veil itself won't move.

For the first time in his life, he is giving up.

He is trapped here. Fated to fade away.

Behind the veil.

* * *

She is here again. Just like he knew she would be.

Why is she here? Has she really abandoned her master in the Atrium to see the cousin she liked the least?

"You came,"

Neither a question, nor a statement.

"Why did you laugh at me?" she demands instantly, getting up from the cold floor to sit in front of the veil.

"Why did you kill me?" his voice responds. "We're family, aren't we?"

"Not when you laugh at me," she snaps. Thoughtfully she adds, "Or when I kill you."

Silence. A long one.

Then, "Dammit, where are you?"

"Behind the veil, dear cousin."

"Wha—?" Her head jerks up, and she stares at the ugly rag before her. "The gorgeous king of luxury living behind _this_ dirty thing?"

"_You_ lived in lap of material luxury, but _I_ didn't spend my time in Azkaban with hopes of Voldemort coming to free me," the voice says bitterly.

"Yes," she says mirthlessly. "But I didn't come here for a verbal battle. I was having fun with your godson, who wanted to avenge your apparent death. He even threw a Cruciatius Curse at me. A very weak one, though."

"Mm-hmm." The tone is indifferent. But she can tell it is ready to capsize with surprise.

Another silence.

Even longer than the last.

She can hear distant footsteps, Minister Fudge's voice, the wind, her breathing, which is frightfully calm, although she is holding a conversation with a bodiless sound.

From somewhere she cannot make out, she hears a soft voice singing.

"Shut up," she says, annoyed.

"Make me," he taunts. There has always been a reason why she never liked him very much.

"Fine!" she shouts, surprised at the amount of uncharacteristic rage in her blood. "Where are you?"

"Behind the veil."

* * *

He sighs with irritation every time either he, or she speaks. She is trifling with time, and denying him his pleasure. Even though this _is_ the last thing he is doing.

Finally, after what seems like ages, she pulls aside the curtain. Her eyes squint to see in the darkness, the grey orbs searching for him, not knowing she is staring into his right now.

Amazed by the softness of his own voice, he hums, "My Bella lies over the ocean ... My Bella lies over the sea ... Oh bring back my Bella to me, to me ...Oh, bring back my Bella to me..."

He hears her sharp intake of breath. It means she has finally caught the meaning behind those slightly altered lyrics. He wanted his sister.

His strong-headed Bella Black.

Not the power-hungry Mrs. Bellatrix Lestrange.

The colour is rising in her cheeks, and she prays it does not show.

_How_. _Dare_. _He_.

She will not stand to be taunted by him. A childhood and teenage spent in hating each other, a lifetime to be spent in mocking all that she believes in. And now, he acts as if her Elysian marriage to Rodolphus tainted the heart of an "innocent Black girl" who might have grown into a blood traitor like him, and hold the fact up high and proud.

The sense of panic is rising in his throat now. He is already blending into the darkness. But his voice doesn't melt.

"My Bella lies over the ocean ... My Bella lies over the sea ... Oh, bring back my Bella to me, to me! ... Oh, bring back my Bella to me..."

"_Sirius_," she snarls warningly, unknowingly swallowing the bait.

She steps forward boldly.

"My Bella lies over the ocean ... My Bella lies over the sea ... Oh bring back my Bella to me, to me! ... Oh, bring back my Bella to me..."

His hands reach out, and close their vice-like grip around her wrists, tugging her into the blackness with him.

Behind the veil.

* * *

_Sometimes it's wrong to walk away, although you know it's over_

_Knowing there's much more to say_

_Suddenly the moment's over_

_And all's upside down_

_And you just wanna change the way the world goes 'round_.

**Have You Ever**, S Club

—** End —**


End file.
